


You Learn Something New Every Day

by SbiderSlut (BlackCoffeeCat)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Car Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Frottage, If You Squint - Freeform, Incest Kink, Kinda, M/M, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-24 18:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16645373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCoffeeCat/pseuds/SbiderSlut
Summary: This man looks right at them and remarks, happily unaware of the kiloliter can of worms he just RPG-ed wide open, “The bond between you and Mr. Parker is truly remarkable, Tony. You could practically be father and son.”Which is.Just.---Tony and Peter discover the merits of daddy kink while at a very public gala dinner.So, they pull a classic Jay-Z and Beyonce during the ride home.---中文翻译





	You Learn Something New Every Day

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[授翻|铁虫]You Learn Something New Everyday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567888) by [sinSODA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinSODA/pseuds/sinSODA)



> So this is literally just a gratuitous smutty one-shot with daddy kink and panties involved because that is my regular drink order. I'm me, and this is the type of trash I enjoy. 
> 
> Loosely inspired by Beyonce's _Partition_ because _have you heard it?_
> 
> Weird sidenote: I debated with myself forever whether to use 'come' or 'cum' but I knew it had to be consistent. Considering that this story is mostly filth and has little artistic merit, I chose to stick with 'cum'. Yes, it's filthier, I know. Why do you think I picked it? ;)
> 
> Also a special thanks to [askmyknife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/askmyknife/), who writes A+ smut, and was willing to read my garbage and give me the courage to post it <3 <3

Peter is smart. _And_ , despite what MJ may occasionally claim, he’s fairly intuitive and sharp -- even when it comes to feelings and shit. _Fairly_ being the key word, but semantics, right?

After all, he managed to get Tony Stark into bed and worm his way into the man’s heart. If that doesn’t take some amount of emotional intuitiveness, then what does?

It certainly wasn’t any good seduction techniques which finally made Tony Stark push Peter up against the nearest wall. It wasn't Peter's sexy, alluring personality which enticed the older man enough to close those last few inches between their lips, effectively annihilating Peter where he stood. Peter’s not deluded enough to believe that his desperate attempts at seducing the older man were anything short of clumsy and embarrassing to witness. Before getting together with Tony, he hadn't a sexy bone in his body.

(And if he remembers correctly, the event which prompted their first kiss was a mechanical explosion which missed decapitating Peter's head clean off by mere inches.  _Not_ seductive nor sexy, in the slightest.)  

In fact, if Peter hadn’t been utterly gagging for it to the point of pure shamelessness, he would have felt embarrassed at how he had behaved.  

But, he’s taking Tony fucking Stark's deliciously fat cock up his ass on the regular, so whatever dignity he sacrificed to get to where he is today, _worth it_. He’s not ashamed. Which is perfect, because if anyone is going to successfully date Tony Stark, they can’t have any shame.  

Point being, Peter is fairly intuitive and sharp. In this case, fairly just means that he managed to bag one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. Not an easy feat. He’ll give himself the credit he’s due.

But on the other hand, Peter still remembers how to be humble when it comes to any other topic besides how he's banging Tony Stark.

So, he’ll admit that things do slip past him. 

Things like, well. _This._

They’re at a nice gala dinner with good wine and food, seating arrangements, and nice round tables that have lavish tablecloths draped all the way down to the floor.

Essentially, a standard third Saturday night of the month.

So, like all gala dinners with good wine and food, seating arrangements, and nice round tables with lavish tablecloths to the floor, Tony has a firm, steady hand pressed to Peter’s crotch, working him at a torturous rhythm that isn’t enough for him to cum, but keeps him painfully hard the whole night.

There are three main things about these gala dinners:

One. Tony _always_ sits next to Peter.

Two. He _always_ gets Peter an outfit where he can shuck his suit jacket and carry it draped over an arm. Y’know, to hide his raging boner that Tony never lets fully die.

Three. Peter _always_ wears slutty panties, because he knows the night will _always_ end in Tony defiling them one way or another. The more garish and gaudy they are, the better.

So, there they are, just another third Saturday of the month, chatting it up with whichever public figures are at their table while everyone is thankfully none-the-wiser that Tony is casually molesting his young protege under the dinner table.

Peter’s used to the constant arousal by now -- knows the routine, knows to shuck his jacket before standing up, and knows how to keep a straight face and maintain a decent composure. He knows, now, how to grind his hips up ever-so-slightly into the warm press of Tony’s hand, just enough that he can get some friction and relief without allowing the movement to show in his upper body.

Without giving himself away.

He knows how to hold a decent conversation while dangling right on the edge -- how to easily and confidently discuss which classes he's taking at MIT, what his plans for the future are, how he's enjoying adulthood. He knows how to charm the pants of the elite of society as Tony works him over. 

He also knows, now, to expect to be thrown against the nearest surface once they’re back home and furiously taken apart. As much as Tony’s constant teasing riles Peter up, Peter _being_ riled up the entire night turns Tony into a madman. Well, that, and the panties. The combination of the two ratchets Tony up to a level of furious arousal that is frankly absurd.

Sure, the billionaire is already insatiable in his everyday life, but the desperation of these galas turns him into an absolute _dog_.

And Peter loves it when Tony is a dog.

Tonight is going to be a good night, Peter thinks, because they know this routine like the backs of their hands. Everything always goes according to plan -- they get to wine and dine and enjoy high-class society, and then they go home and have the type of wild animal sex that cancels out any classiness they may have previously exhibited. That's how it goes. 

At least, that's how it _should_ go.

What happens is, an older gentleman at their table smiles fondly at them. He looks like somebody's kind grandpa -- certainly not the kind of man who would unknowingly up the stakes of Peter and Tony's perverted games by a million fucking miles.

So Tony and Peter don't really see it coming.

This man looks right at them and remarks, blissfully unaware of the kiloliter can of worms he just RPG-ed wide open, “The bond between you and Mr. Parker is truly remarkable, Tony. You could practically be father and son.”

Which is.

Just.

Tony’s hand freezes where it’s grasping at Peter and the man tenses, though it’s essentially undetectable to anyone except Peter, who knows him too well.

And Peter?

His hips stutter against Tony’s tensed grip and he cums, right then and there, in his pants, with a skip of his breath.

 _Holy shit_ , that thought is _so fucking hot_.

Peter didn’t know it was a thing for him, but now? _Totally_ a thing.

The thing to rule all things.

Like, Tony can be his dad, and Peter will be his slutty little son, who’s so incredibly sweet but also starving for his Daddy’s big, fat cock. And because Daddy knows his little boy so well, loves him and spoils him so well, he’ll give Peter what he needs so desperately…

 _... and_ Peter should probably stop thinking along the lines of some cheesy porno in a _very_ public setting.

He should probably ( _definitely_ ) face his rather precarious reality and put on a decent face for their dinner companions.

Reality is, there’s no hiding his depraved reaction from Tony; the man can’t _not_ feel it, not with the way Peter is still twitching against his palm, nor the warm wetness that is quickly soaking through the crotch of Peter’s slacks.  

Oh, Jesus, what’s Tony going to think? Is he disgusted now?

Peter’s panic doesn’t really get a chance to take off, though, because the hand on his crotch tightens, and a barely visible flush rises along Tony’s collar.

“Yeah,” Tony says, and his voice sounds just gravelly enough that Peter -- and Peter alone -- recognizes it.

It’s that special quality Tony’s voice gets when he’s itching to have the type of depraved, deviant sex that should get both him and Peter locked away from polite society for a long time. It the sounds which always precludes Peter getting utterly destroyed. It's Peter’s _favorite._

“You know,” Tony continues, “and this is something we tend to keep on the down low because the press is nosy as fuck -- he’s like the son I’ve never had. It’s a thing for us. Right, s _weetheart_?”

Peter’s cock makes a valiant effort and somehow manages to get hard again. “Uh,” he stammers, swallowing down a soft whine as Tony’s hand bears down and _kneads._ Peter can feel his cum squelching from the pressure, and he’s nearly positive Tony can feel the mess seeping between his searching fingers as he outlines the shape of Peter’s cock through his slacks and strokes at Peter, slow and steady. “Y-yeah. You’re so good to me.”

“Anything for you, darling,” Tony murmurs, and offers a shark-like smile to the rest of the table, who all look besotted and are absolutely eating up their oh-so-pure relationship.

Gullible fucking fools, all of them.

“Secret’s already out, right? So if you were wondering -- which, of course you are -- Peter’s much more than a protege to me. And anyone would be proud to call him their own -- he’s such a good, sweet boy, after all. Don’t you think?”

That earns a few agreements and nods from around the table, on top of all the soft eyes and admiring gazes. They all fly right over Peter’s head, though.

All Peter can focus on is Tony’s touch burning at him through layers of clothing, the sharp arousal that’s churning in his gut, the fuel to the fire that this edge of taboo adds to everything, the delicious, understated hunger in the man’s voice. It’s sensory overload in the best way.

Peter swallows thickly, plastering on an innocent smile in an effort to look like _‘decent-human-being-not-caught-in-kinky-sex-daze’_ rather than _‘depraved-sex-weirdo-discovering-daddy-kink’._

It takes far more effort than Peter is willing to admit.   

Mercifully, the main event has already occurred and they’re on the last rounds of dessert, so nobody finds it outrageous when Tony checks his watch and remarks that they should get going, because they’ve had a long day.

“Don’t forget your jacket,” Tony murmurs as he guides Peter to his feet. It doesn’t escape Peter’s notice that Tony, too, makes a point of shedding his outer layer and draping it over his arm so that it shields his lower front side.

Tony’s hand burns like a brand through the back of Peter’s dress shirt the entire walk out the back door. Tony quickly pushes Peter into the back of the black car and then scrambles in himself.

It’s driverless. Tony’s a dick and likes to be a little ridiculous to Happy, but he’s not so much of a dick that he’d make the man drive them home on a night when there’s a 110% forecast that he and Peter will get so hot and heavy in the back that they’ll a) put Beyonce and Jay-Z to shame; and b) probably cause such a racket that even the best partition will be rendered useless.

“You’re a kinky little slut, you know that, Parker?” Tony growls as he turns to face Peter. “You’re so fucking filthy. You want me to be your dad and then fuck you?” He clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. “Filthy, filthy boy.”

“Like father, like son,” Peter snarks. His whole body goes hot at just that simple thought. He looks pointedly down at the crotch of Tony’s pants, where he looks about ready to burst through the fabric. “Besides, you’re hard, too. Is that all for me?”

“You’re a fucking menace,” Tony groans, grinding a palm to his crotch and undoing the clasp-closure of his dress slacks with one hand to relieve some of the pressure. “Get your ass over here, baby. Don’t keep Daddy waiting.”

Peter crawls forward and presses a chaste kiss to Tony’s lips. “How do you want me...Daddy?” he murmurs. He’s not quite used to it yet, and the word feels so dirty coming out of him that he can’t keep down his furious blush. It feels taboo and so, so wrong.

Right up his alley, basically.

“Like this,” Tony murmurs, dragging Peter closer by his hips until he’s kneeling up on his knees. The position places his hips right in Tony's line of vision, nearly at face level. “Why don’t you open up your pants and show Daddy your panties?”

Burning under the intensity of Tony’s leering, Peter chews his lip and slowly unbuckles the front of his pants, shimmying them down so that they’re resting halfway down his thighs.

“What do you think?” Peter asks slyly, wiggling his hips and watching as Tony licks his lips and takes it all in -- the blush-colored satin, the cute little bow centered on the waistband, the way Peter’s cock strains against the fabric...

...The _huge_ mess of cum that’s already soaked through and ruined the front.

“Very nice,” Tony murmurs. He takes his thumb and rubs it gently against the fabric, right where the head of Peter’s cock is, smirking at how Peter’s hips stutter forward and how he chokes out a gasp. “That desperate for it, are you?”   

“Yes, please,” Peter whines.

“Please _who_?”

 _Oh, right._ “Daddy,” Peter moans, feeling the title light his skin on fire. “Please, Daddy.” His cock twitches in his panties, a blurt of precum leaking out and further staining the fabric under Tony’s thumb.

“Please _what?_ ”

Tony’s not even trying to suppress his self-satisfied grin. He’s definitely enjoying teasing Peter and riling him up like this.

Peter, on the other hand, could cry. He loves being teased until he’s a writhing, wanton mess, but he also craves relief _so bad_.

And he’s probably not going to get it for a while.

“Alright, turn around,” Tony says, saving Peter from answering him.

Peter obeys, sitting on his heels and facing the window.

“Hands and knees.”

Choking down a sense of embarrassment, Peter leans his weight forward until his back is arched down and his ass is sticking out.

“Good boy.” A rough hand rubs over the curve of his left hip.

Peter whimpers.

For a long moment, all Peter can hear is his own heavy breathing, and all he can feel is the burning of Tony’s intense gaze on his ass. He knows the man is looking just to look. Tony does that a lot; he enjoys visuals.

“Look at you,” Tony breathes, and Peter can practically feel the man’s warm breath ghost against the skin of his lower back. “All wrapped up in pretty panties for your Daddy. Did you clean up before dinner, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Peter chokes out. “I did.”

“Perfect,” Tony hums. “Looks like Daddy raised you to be a perfect little slut, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And good little sluts get rewards, don’t they?” Before Peter can answer, he feels the unexpected press of a face against his panty-clad ass, and a warm rush of air being blown directly against his hole through the thin fabric.  

“Yes, oh God, please, _Daddy_ ," Peter mewls, clenching down and shivering uncontrollably. 

“Well," Tony chuckles, and Peter can feel  _that_ , too, up until Tony lifts his face away. "Since you asked so sweetly.”

Peter holds his breath as he feels Tony’s fingers lift the waistband of his panties and ease them down until they’re tucked right under the swell of his ass.

He’s so exposed -- cheeks parted and ass sticking up pertly in the air, completely at the mercy of whatever Tony wishes to do to him.

His heart pounds. He can’t see Tony at all from this angle, and he’s not sure what’s coming.   

Suddenly, a warm, wet tongue laps at his hole, swirling around, and then dipping inside ever-so-slightly. _Fuck_ , it’s _so good_. Peter’s head involuntarily drops and he keens, high pitched and needy, as Tony buries his face between Peter’s cheeks and hungrily licks into him with firm, generous laves of his tongue.

The noises are delectable. Peter can _hear_ the loud, sloppy slurping as Tony eats him out. He can _feel_ it -- the abundance of spit that’s dripping down his crack and soaking into the panties that are still tucked right under his ass. He can feel the precum that’s leaking abundantly now, seeping through the front of his panties where his cock is still straining against the stretched fabric.

Peter cries out, loud and sharp, as Tony seals his lips around Peters rim and sucks,  _hard._ "Oh my God, Daddy," he yowls, "Please, please, please, I'm close!" 

And then, Tony inexplicably pulls back.

“..Daddy?” Peter whines, craning his head to see what’s going on.

“Face forward,” Tony says, with an air of authority that Peter obeys without a second thought. “No looking.”

Then, Tony’s hand comes forward and curls around Peter’s throat, holding him still with a firm grip. The man’s body slides up behind Peter to curve snugly around him, chest to back, crotch to ass, their lower halves falling in perfect alignment.

“I know what I’m going to do now,” Tony growls hotly right into Peter’s ear. The hand at Peter’s throat tilts his head back. Peter groans, loud and wrecked as Tony’s hard, clothed cock grinds roughly into Peter’s ass. “I’m gonna hump you, just like this. I’m gonna hump you like the dog _you’ve_ turned me into -- grind myself against your firm little ass. And you’re just gonna take it.”

_Fuck. Yes._

A loud sob falls from Peter’s lips.

“Oh yeah, you like the thought of that?” Tony asks. “You better. Because after that, I’m gonna cum all over your ass, and we’re gonna pull your slutty panties right back up. And _you_. You’re going to sit like a good little boy in a pool of Daddy’s cum until we get home.”   

“O-okay,” Peter stutters. “Yes. Please. Use me, Daddy.”

And use him, Tony does.

With a rough press of one hand to the nape of Peter’s neck, Tony shoves Peter face-first into the seat cushion until he’s folded in half with his ass sticking high in the air. And then, Tony leans forward and begins rutting into Peter’s ass with firm, violent thrusts.

“Fuck yeah,” Tony hisses, driving his hips forward in sharp, steady motions. “That’s it, hold still for me. Daddy needs this."

More than anything, Peter absolutely loves the sharp, low grunts Tony makes as he slowly comes undone and loses control, one roll of his hips at a time. “Yes, Daddy,” he whispers, turning his face just slightly so he's not muffled by the cushion, “Use me. Cum on me. Your little boy needs you, too, Daddy.”

Peter notes, with satisfaction, how Tony’s hips lose their rhythm the more Peter goads him on.

“Use me like a slut, Daddy. Come on, I’m all yours, I’m your slut. Show me that you own me.”

“Christ,” Tony groans, hips driving in faster and harsher with renewed vigor. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make Daddy cum, talking like that.”

“Yes, cum for me, Daddy. Cum for your little boy. I need it. Please, please, please.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tony hisses, each uttered curse accompanied by a brutal thrust of his hips. “Fuck, baby, Daddy’s gonna cum.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Peter crows, clenching his fists in anticipation as he hears the frantic rustling of slacks being pushed down.

He hears Tony’s broken moan, and then the telltale,  _delicious_ wet noises of a slick cock being furiously stroked. The sloppy squelches fill the air, and Peter practically drools with anticipation as Tony’s voice breaks off into short, stilted _ah, ah, ah’s._

Normally, it’s Peter who gets wrecked and vocal, but there’s something so incredibly _hot_ when he gets to witness Tony lose control.  

“Please, Daddy, I need it,” Peter begs, rocking backward in a motion that he knows spreads him further apart for Tony’s eyes. “Cum for your baby boy.”

“Fuck, Daddy’s cumming.” Tony lets out a few harsh pants, and then a loud, long groan that rumbles pleasantly. Peter feels the warm, wet splash of cum spurting across his skin, and the weight of Tony against him increases as the man collapses against his back.

Fuck, being so used and untouched shouldn’t feel this amazing, but Peter feels a haze settle over him even as his cock stays hard and trapped in the scrunched confines of his panties. The weight of Tony resting against his back -- the feeling of the man's spent cock twitching against the back of Peter's thigh -- makes Peter's entire body shudder in pleasure. Seeing Tony come apart, seeing him lose control and use him like a dog always does Peter in, in a way that being thoroughly fucked doesn’t.

It’s a completely different thing.

So as Tony slowly pulls away and drags the waistband of those ruined panties back up, Peter feels illogically satisfied. As Tony strokes a firm hand over the backside of the panties, thoroughly pressing the satin into the mess of cum all over Peter’s ass, Peter feels dazed with unmatchable pleasure.

He allows Tony to pull him back up into his lap and kiss him thoroughly, softly. He smiles giddily into the kiss and sighs, cupping gently at a bearded cheek.  

“Hmm, I love you,” Tony murmurs against Peter’s jaw, holding him close and tight. "And I'm really liking this. Can I keep being your Daddy, sweetheart?" 

"Yes, yes,” Peter responds, wrapping his arms around the man. "I like this, too. I love you, Daddy." He's content and ready to just stay like that, for as long as Tony wants, and forget his own arousal. 

But Tony hasn't forgotten. And he's suddenly feeling generous, apparently, because he murmurs, "Can you kneel up for Daddy, sweetheart?" He brings Peter up with two firm hands planted on the cum-stained ass of his panties, guiding and rearranging Peter so that he's straddling Tony's lap. 

"You've been such a good boy for Daddy," Tony coos, placing a soft kiss on the tip of Peter's nose that has the boy giggling. "So, you don't have to wait anymore. Do you want to cum, baby?" 

Peter nods, frantically. "Yes, please." 

"Come here, sweet boy," Tony says, drawing Peter closer so his clothed cock is pressed flush against Tony's upper abs. "It's your turn to grind on Daddy." He spurs Peter into a slow, steady grind by gripping tightly at his ass with both hands and guiding his hips. "Just like that, baby. How's that?" 

Peter lets out a soft whimper and rests both hands on Tony's shoulders. "That's so good," he whispers, scrunching up his brow in concentration. He tries his best to follow Tony's hands, rolling his hips in the rhythm as Tony dictates. "Can I go a little faster?" 

"Of course, baby." Those hands on his hips speed up, and Peter tightens his grip on Tony's shoulders as he really starts to rut against the firmness of Tony's toned abdomen. The friction it gives is incredible and Peter mewls, high pitched and feminine as he feels his orgasm coming on fast. "Ah, ah, Daddy, c-close! I'm gonna --!"     

"That's okay, darling," Tony murmurs, licking up the line of Peter's neck and pressing a kiss to his jawline. "Come for Daddy," he growls hotly into Peter's ear. 

That's all it takes, and Peter is convulsing and twitching, too overwhelmed with pleasure to do more than shake and sob, softly. Tony loops his arms around the boy's lower back, holding him up and he trembles and gasps through the waves of his orgasm. 

"How do you feel, baby?" Tony asks once Peter blinks his eyes open. 

"Good," Peter murmurs, dropping forward to bury his face into the crook of Tony's neck. He fists his hands into the front of Tony's dress shirt. "Thank you, Daddy. You... you're so good to me."

"I try," Tony mumbles, pulling Peter to him and holding him so tight that it hurts a little bit. "I'll keep trying." 

Which. That's something they're working on. And that's something Peter will slowly and painstakingly work at mending, as far as he's concerned. He's ready for the long haul, because life hasn't always been kind to Tony Stark, and Peter intends to remedy every last hurt the world has cruelly dealt this wonderful man.

That's a fight he's been ready for.

But for now, he's simply content to stay wrapped up in his Daddy's arms, even as cum continues to soak against his skin and ruin his clothes. He's content to seek shelter in the warmth of Tony's arms, and to keep Tony safe in his arms, waiting patiently for the passing of time to heal their hurts, old and new. 

They're headed in a promising direction -- a healthy direction, a kinky direction, a _happy_ direction.

Peter exhales, closes his eyes, and smiles. 

\---

(The next day, Peter places an order for twenty cotton bloomers in assorted colors, all with _“Daddy”_ printed across the ass.

Because even if MJ is right and he's clueless about certain things, he's not stupid enough to let go of a good thing.

He never let go of Tony Stark, after all. He doesn't plan to.

And this _Daddy_ thing? This is a _very good thing._ Peter’s never letting it go.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed my garbage! Feel free to come scream at me in the comments; comments are always super appreciated! Xoxo
> 
> \---
> 
> I am [SbiderSlut](http://sbiderslut.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Come by and say hi! 💖💕


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